


Heart to Break

by LovelyLadyAllie



Series: The Beauty and her Beast: One-Shot Series [7]
Category: Beauty and the Beast (1991)
Genre: Angst, Angst and Feels, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Falling In Love, First Dance, Friendship, Friendship/Love, Heartbreak, Love, Male-Female Friendship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-29
Updated: 2020-10-29
Packaged: 2021-03-09 00:15:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,866
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27265567
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LovelyLadyAllie/pseuds/LovelyLadyAllie
Summary: The magical night has arrived and Beast is nervous but ready to give Belle everything he has. If only it had turned out the way he hoped.Inspired by the song: Heart To Break
Relationships: Beast & Belle (Disney), Beast/Belle (Disney)
Series: The Beauty and her Beast: One-Shot Series [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1989907
Kudos: 15





	Heart to Break

**Inspired by the song by Kim Petras (suggested by Phoenix in _The Enchanted Rose_ Discord group)**

**I do not own Beauty and the Beast, and I take direct quotes from the 1991 film, written by Linda Woolverton.**

**The surrounding narrative and Beast's internal thoughts are mine.**

**Please check out my other one-shots leading up to this moment, and please please please leave me a little review!**

* * *

**Heart to Break**

Years of despair and hopelessness culminated in this one perfect night.

Beast was scrubbed, trimmed, and stuffed into the most refined clothing he'd worn since the curse. Lumière assured him he didn't look half as ridiculous as he felt in the princely attire, but he found the words insincere as his maître d' forced a strained smile. Compliments often rolled off the candlelabra's tongue like melted butter, and while the Beast could admit that he looked _better_ than usual, he wasn't stupid enough to believe he was fit to be Belle's escort. But her escort was his role tonight.

With a deep, shuddering breath, he left his room and proceeded to the main staircase that joined the West and East wings. The cravat felt like it was choking him, so he loosened it just a touch as he saw her waiting.

All air fled his lungs as he looked her over. She was a vision. He'd never seen anything so beautiful in his entire life. The golden ball gown fit her slim figure to perfection, and her dark hair was half up in a bun with a matching gold ribbon. But what captivated him most were her eyes. Thanks to her gown, her sparkling hazel eyes were more gold than olive. He couldn't stop staring.

How was he supposed to tell her how he felt when she had stunned him speechless?

Lumière gave him an encouraging nudge, and his feet finally moved. In his head, he repeated, _Don't trip, don't trip, don't trip,_ as he descended, meeting her where the West and East stairs merged into one. They bowed to one another and her radiant smile reflected his own. He offered his arm as he'd been trained to do so many years ago. It always felt unnatural in his lessons with Madame Tourdion, but with Belle, it was second nature. They'd strolled around his garden arm-in-arm like this, and occasionally around the castle after a meal when they retired to their parlor to read. Every time they touched, no matter how briefly, he felt tingles of excitement run up his arm into his chest. Her arm was light but steady, hooked around his. She never cowered or showed any disgust at touching him, and it strengthened his hope.

Yes. He could do this. At dinner, he'd give himself time to gather his thoughts and work up the courage to tell her. Unfortunately, that meant the knots in his stomach wouldn't tolerate much.

He guided them to the dining room and drew out her chair at the head of the table. Tonight the staff had pulled out all the stops, and a veritable feast lay before them. Beast took his seat on the opposite end of the room. Belle didn't usually tolerate the distance during meals, but with the elevated formality of the evening, she didn't make a fuss.

Conversation was difficult, and with his nonexistent appetite—and apparently hers—all it took to abandon the meal was Chapeau's arrival with his violin. His valet was a talented violinist, but Beast didn't know he'd planned to play tonight. He surmised that Lumière likely put him up to it.

Suddenly, Belle stood and rushed over to him. His mouth dropped open as she grabbed his paws and pulled on them, urging him to stand.

"Dance with me, please?" she asked, her eyes shining brighter and less guarded than he'd ever seen them. She wanted him to dance with her? A flash of panic consumed him and he scanned the room. Lumière shooed him on with a wink, and he had to restrain his laugh at the eagerness on his friend's face.

He could do this.

Her arm hooked through his again as they moved from the dining room to the ballroom. The memory of their suds fight had him grinning down on her and she reflected his humor. It was the first time they'd been playful together, and it was one of his fondest memories. But never in his wildest dreams did he ever envision being in this room with her like this; her looking every inch a fairytale princess and him as close as he could get to the prince he was within.

Belle guided his paws, placing one around her waist as she took the other into hers. He gulped, his eyes following the movement of her hands. She was so close; the smell of her honeysuckle and lilac perfume overwhelmed him and filled his stomach with butterflies. He was about to panic again when he saw her smile and adoring gaze. Her reassuring expression was enough to alleviate his uncertainty and bring him back to the moment at hand. Her looking at him like this, wanting him to hold her, was everything he'd ever dreamt of.

Like so many skills he'd learned as a young Prince but forgotten, didn't take long for muscle memory to take over. As the music played, his feet moved with a grace he never guessed a beast of his size could muster. He took the lead, twirling and spinning her around the massive room, all focus and attention on her. His heart swelled in his chest, beating with a cadence faster than a sprint through the woods. He was exhilarated and happy.

As their movement slowed, she rested her head on his chest. A beaming smile lit his face. He spared a glance at Lumière, who gave him a triumphant cheer, while the more astute majordomo gestured with a thumbs up and a coy smile. Beast's confidence grew with each step, banishing reservations and doubts. No matter what her response was, he knew he'd never forget this night. He would never love another the way he loved Belle.

The lights in the ballroom dimmed, and he gave her a final spin then back into his arms before leading her out onto the balcony.

It was a perfect, clear spring night. The air was cool but not cold. After dancing, it felt wonderfully refreshing. Belle and Beast sat side by side along the railing. At first, Beast was a little nervous, his hand rubbing at the back of his neck as he contemplated what to say to her. His plan to figure out the words to express his feelings at dinner had failed, thanks to Chapeau's interruption, leaving him with no other option but to improvise. He looked at her again. She really was the epitome of perfection. She'd danced and eaten dinner with him without a trace of revulsion. He needed to know if it was still because of her promise, or if she _wanted_ to be here with him.

As she adjusted her skirts, he slid closer. He would bare his heart to her and let the chips fall where they may. Maybe she felt some affection towards him? Maybe she only saw him as a friend? Either way, his heart was hers to do with as she pleased. His only hope was that she'd want to guard it and not toss it aside like yesterday's leftovers.

Taking her hands in his, he started, "Belle…" She gripped his paws back and smiled up at him. Heaven help him, she was just so beautiful. He paused only a moment before asking his first question. "Are you happy here, with me?"

Her eyes softened and without reservation, she replied, "Yes." But as soon as the word was out, her face fell. She turned to the starry sky, looking to the forest toward her village.

He could see the longing in her expression, and his moment of elation at her initial response faded. He felt her pulling away, and there was a sadness in her eyes.

"What is it?" he asked, more afraid not to know than for her to say she couldn't stay. Her happiness meant more to him than his own. If something was keeping her from being happy with him, he needed to know. If he could fix it, he would move mountains to give her every comfort, every luxury he could.

She didn't meet his eyes, and that alone pained him, for he knew her next statement would hurt.

"If only I could see my father again, just for a moment. I miss him so much."

Of course! How could he have forgotten? Her love for her father brought her to him in the first place. The guilt stabbed at him, reminding him of the callous way he'd treated both Maurice and Belle when he tore them apart. Shame filled his heart, and he knew what he had to do. To grant her her wish, he'd have to let her go.

Or perhaps not… There _was_ one way she could see her father: The mirror. If all she needed was reassurance that her father was alright, that was something he could give her without losing her.

"There is a way," he gently said, giving her hands a little squeeze.

Hope crossed her features as he silently led her to his room. There on the table next to his wilting rose was the magic mirror. He lifted it, telling her, "This mirror will show you anything, anything you wish to see."

With wide eyes, she took it from him. She didn't doubt his words, although he almost expected her to. Apparently living in an enchanted castle had worn away the usual skepticism one would expect when presented with a magical object.

"I'd like to see my father, please." Her words were clear and concise, and with a bright green glow, the mirror showed her what she'd asked.

He couldn't see the image before her, but from the terrified look in her eyes, he knew it wasn't the reassuring glimpse he'd hoped for. Something was wrong.

"Papa," Belle gasped, and he felt his heart twist in his chest. Concern not only for her, but for her beloved parent struck him, and he waited with bated breath for her to continue.

"He's sick, he may be dying, and he's all alone." She clutched the mirror to her chest as she spoke, frantic and almost desperate. He couldn't bear to see her like that. Gripping the small table that housed the rose, he turned away. Every muscle tensed as his mind came to grips with what he knew he had to do. Her needs, her desires, were worth more to him than his own, and he couldn't keep her any longer.

A paw stroked down the side of the dome covering the wilting rose. Two petals remained. Two petals between his salvation and his damnation. And as much as he wanted to believe salvation was possible, that over the past few months he'd learned to love and put someone else above himself, his hope she'd return his affections in time faltered. If he hadn't sent her Papa away without any thought to keep abreast of his well being, things could have been different. But he'd been cruel and selfish, just as he'd always been, and he was going to lose her because of it.

With a deep breath, and the feeling of his heart ripping from his chest, he mumbled, "Then you, you must go to him." He remained turned from her, unable to witness the relief he knew would be there.

"What did you say?"

He heard her skirts shifting, bringing her closer to him, and he shed away slightly. With a strength he didn't know he possessed, he clearly stated, "I release you. You're no longer my prisoner."

Incredulously, she said, "You mean, I'm free?"

She moved to stand beside him within his view, and he couldn't help but look up at her. The only word he could get out was a soft, "Yes." It broke him to utter that miniscule response, and his heart shattered as her face lit with joy. He lifted a paw, and she gripped it so swiftly it felt like a butterfly landing, then taking off. It was too quick, and he wanted more. But he'd never have it.

"Oh, thank you." She turned away, gazing into the mirror, and took a few steps. Speaking to the image, she said, "Hold on, Papa, I'm on my way." And he watched, unable to hide his sadness, knowing this was the last time he'd ever see her, but confident he was making the right decision.

But then she stopped and came back to him, holding the mirror out to him. He pushed it back, telling her, "Take it with you, so you'll always have a way to look back, and remember me." His paw moved without permission, needing one last touch, one last moment with her. It gently caressed her hair, and he tried to memorize the feel of the silky strands as they passed through his fingers.

Her eyes fell to the mirror with such a loving look, it reassured him he was doing what was right. Then she looked up, her beautiful hazel eyes connecting with his. "Thank you for understanding how much he needs me."

As she went to leave his head fell, despair and sorrow filling him with a hopelessness deeper than any he'd felt before. She reached back, one small hand with a featherlight touch cupped his cheek, then dropped, and she was gone. That was it. That was the last he'd ever feel of her.

He wanted to live in that tiny moment forever, but he was pulled from it by Cogsworth's entrance. The words from the Englishman barely registered, and he informed him with as little emotion as he could that he'd let Belle go. The clock didn't understand and asked why, and he admitted that he loved her. That he'd had no other choice.

It wasn't until after he was left alone that he realized why his majordomo had been so upset by the news. It wasn't only his hope she took with her, but theirs as well. He'd failed them and himself. But he hadn't failed her. When it mattered most, he'd put her ahead of everything else and that was something to be proud of. Unfortunately, it didn't ease the pain wrecking his body as the love of his life raced out of sight with no hope she'd ever return.

A ground rumbling roar ripped from his throat as he cried out his anguish. Even though he'd never said the words aloud to her, he loved her with every fiber of his being. He'd let his wall crumble and invited her in, showed her every piece of himself except for the one he couldn't. He'd started the evening knowing it would end with either the happiest moment of his life, or the worst. And he was living the worst.

As her figure disappeared into the dark forest, he roared again, wishing it helped even a little, but it didn't. He couldn't expel his sorrow through shouts, so he dragged himself to the chase by the window and collapsed. In all his time as a beast, he'd never cried over his circumstances, but tonight he did. If he were human, he could have gone with her, could have helped with her father, could have confidently told her how he felt and been part of her life. But he wasn't human, and now he never would be again.

 _Had it been worth it?_ he asked himself as tears streamed down his fur. The answer rang in his head. _Yes._ Every stolen moment he'd had with her was worth every one of despair and emptiness he'd feel from now until his natural demise. And he'd bear it with dignity as best he could. He just wished he'd been able to free his staff along with Belle. They didn't deserve to share his fate.

As much as he didn't want to, he couldn't keep his mind from tormenting him further. From her expression, she'd been elated to leave. Despite her words on the balcony assuring him she was happy with him, he knew she longed for more still. She wanted to see the world, not go from one prison to another. Even though the castle grounds were triple the size of her little village, it wasn't enough, and it never would have been. As perfect for him as she was, he wasn't the perfect fit for her. He'd known that from the start, and yet he'd still hoped he was mistaken, that she'd prove his doubts wrong. But he wasn't wrong. And still he couldn't regret any of it. Even if he never recovered from losing her, having had her in his life, however briefly, was worth it. He was better because of her. She'd taken a sullen Beast and brought out a considerate man, and he wouldn't go back.

* * *

_Another thanks to the B &S writer workshop for suggestions and encouragement_


End file.
